


The printer's a lie

by OrphanText



Category: Magic Kaito, 名探偵コナン | Detective Conan | Case Closed
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, M/M, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-04
Updated: 2015-11-04
Packaged: 2018-04-30 00:16:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,235
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5143277
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OrphanText/pseuds/OrphanText
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Kuroba has an annoying printer, a very good looking (and mildly terrifying) RA, and general bad ideas up his sleeves (but it works out in the end).</p>
            </blockquote>





	The printer's a lie

**Author's Note:**

> Beta-ed by Sammy and General_Buttons. All other mistakes are mine.
> 
> I have zero clue of how these things work, seeing as I've never stepped foot in a dorm my entire life. Please just let it all slide. The idea was ridiculous, so I just had to write it (it just got a little out of hand). Nothing serious to see here.
> 
> The original tumblr post:
> 
> “I’ve decided to begin a business of sorts - it’s basically a bar, but with MANY different types of hot chocolate, and without any alcohol (of course there isn’t any alcohol, who do you think I am). It’ll hopefully become a gathering place for those without another place to go on a snowy Tuesday night.” AU
> 
> Me: Okay.

“You’re serious.”

Hasegawa was staring at him with that odd mixture of half admiration and half incredulity. What could he say? He inspired people - he was simply that amazing. The other explanation would have been too long, and would end up in the same conclusion anyway. And when was he ever not serious? Discounting the times in which he began his sentences with _I solemnly swear…_ , of course.

Next to him, Hasegawa was beginning to look a little worried. Now, that was touching, and affirming to their friendship in the long run, considering that the usual contact they had with each other was when Hasegawa would hand Kaito his notes, and when Kaito would accidentally kick a soccer ball into Hasegawa’s face, because no one that clumsy should be allowed on the field, to be honest. Moving on, Kaito, moving on.

“What if he... you know?”

Kaito craned his head back, considering the sky, then puffed out his cheeks. “We’ll get to it when we get to it. Likely, I will be able to figure a way around it, somehow, but I’m not too worried about it. Have _faith_ , Hasegawa.”

He studiously ignored Hasegawa’s mumbling about an early doomsday before their finals, making sure to step on every crunchy brown leaf in his path. It was the most _brilliant_ idea he’d had since he woke up this morning, and he would see it to fruition, opposition or no opposition, the vague, the alluded _he_ be damned.

It was going to be a blast.

::

Silence, Shinichi decides, is not always a good thing.

Not when he’s just seen several other students in his dorm disappear into Kuroba’s room, when he knows for a fact that the troublemaker himself is present, as well. Currently, the ongoing silence and the closed door is beginning to look increasingly suspicious with every passing minute, and Shinichi finds himself staring through the open gap in his own door, and just… waiting. There are many things that Kuroba might be up to, with that number of people in his room, and Shinichi sincerely hopes that it isn’t any of his pranks, again, or god forbid, _willing volunteers_. Hopefully not trouble, not when all of them are this close to their finals. Kuroba should - _might_ \- know better.

He is definitely not betting on this one.

The suspicious door in question swings open, and Shinichi abandons his internal compilation of _things Kuroba shouldn’t be allowed to do, dorm rules or no_ , and blinks as the students calmly file out of the room in quiet, murmuring voices, Kuroba bringing up the rear with his hands tucked into his pockets. Everyone looks relatively normal, Kuroba almost bored as he herds them off out of the dorm. So. No pranks. No one to save today, then. The job of being the resident assistant of the dormitory was almost health risk inducing.

Apparently sensing the weight of his gaze on his back, Kuroba pauses, then turns to offer him a toothy grin and a cheerful wave, before shuffling off, loudly (Shinichi suspects that it is only for his benefit) discussing the prospect of dinner. Shinichi watches them disappear out of the door with a slight frown, turning back to his textbooks and lecture notes once the door clicks shut behind him, and realises that his coffee mug is empty when he tries to drink out of it.

That, Shinichi decides, is the nail in the coffin that Kuroba is very definitely up to something.

It goes on for a good few weeks, under Shinichi’s watchful eye. Thus far, he has gathered the following information:

  1. There is no set time or day for their almost regular gathering, although it would always take place only after Kuroba’s lectures has ended for the day and not before, and never before 2PM on weekends.

  2. They will always be in Kuroba’s room for at least three hours, and the door will always be closed. Usually, a rather unnerving silence will fall over the dormitory, although Shinichi has heard muted voices from behind the door when he’s walked by it once.

  3. It is never the same group of students, although there are by now a few familiar faces, all of them from the same year

  4. Shinichi sincerely hopes that Kuroba isn’t stooping to drugs or something equally as crazy after the incident last year with the stay-awake-for-three-days thing, though the only casualty was Kuroba after he had accidentally fried his laptop with a glass of water




****The students have noticed him watching, what with the always conveniently open door and strategically positioned chair so he could keep an eye on them while he studied. Often, they would duck their heads by way of greeting, avoiding eye contact with him and clutching their books or their bags nervously in front of them, slipping into Kuroba’s room the moment the door opens to let them through. He could chalk their nervous behaviour up to suspicious activity behind the door, or simply up to his unfriendly, no-nonsense reputation that he’s built in the years he’s been a RA.

Still, he can’t help but wonder when he sees them emerging with looser smiles and tousled hair, exhibiting a more relaxed body language than when they had first gone in with.

He’s checked their facebook pages, and then the hidden facebook pages. A walk around the campus doesn’t show up any advertising that continues to pull visitors into Kuroba’s room, and the noticeboards all turn up empty of the codes and riddles he likes to pepper them with. Asking around doesn’t gain him much, people either evasive or too busy to bother with what their local prankster was up to during their finals.

“I hope he will dress up as Godzilla and run around outside the library,” someone tells him, almost wistfully, as they down what looks to be their fourth can of energy drink. “That would be nice. Or a flash mob. I’d love a video of that.”

Shinichi leaves them with a ration of food that consists of packaged bread and a 1.5 litre bottle of water that he makes the student promise to drink within the day, and returns to monitoring the situation that he has on his hands by himself.

Once Shinichi has determined that Kuroba hasn’t been putting word out, he turns his investigations on to the student in question himself. Kuroba doesn’t seem to be behaving any differently, sticking to his schedules with a higher adherence than Shinichi’s seen for the rest of year. He goes to his lectures on time, from what Shinichi’s observed, and returns with a customary sandwich or rice ball in the afternoons, entertains the students when they show up usually an hour later after he’s returned, and then heads out for dinner with them.

He doesn’t seem to be hiding anything, or acting like he’s done something to be guilty of whenever Shinichi runs into him, although he knows better than to trust Kuroba on a surface level. He is still running through his endless plethora of card tricks whenever Shinichi bumps into him, and continues to offer a rose that he pulls out from his sleeves (Shinichi is proud of how quickly he’s figured out that trick). By now, there is an entire vase of them on his desk, and he is still nowhere near to figuring out Kuroba’s trick, or what the student is up to. Twirling the latest (pink) around his fingers, Shinichi gives it a reluctant smile, and sticks it into the vase with the others.

He draws the line on a Thursday, when Kuroba shepherds a couple of nervous looking first and second years, still fresh faced and likely highly susceptible to whatever Kuroba usually likes to pull on the unsuspecting members of the cohort.

Squaring his shoulders, Shinichi raps on the closed door of Kuroba’s room, and without so much as an ‘excuse me’ (and with no little surprise when he finds out that the door isn’t locked), barges right in.

“I,” he says, decisively, “Cannot, in my good conscience allow you to continue to have your nefarious way with the other years. I didn’t say a word when it was students from our year, but to involve first and second years - “

“Oh.” Bright violet eyes blink at him. “So I can have it with you?”

Kuroba sounds rather cheered at the prospect, lips curving in quiet amusement while Shinichi trails off into uncertainty, his previous confidence abandoning him as he takes in the scene before him. The students he’s seen entering the room were sprawled out around it, taking up any available space on the floor, at Kuroba’s desk, and even on his bed, open textbooks and folders of notes spread out before them in a systemic disorder, all of them surrounding Kuroba, who sits in the middle of it all, back against the frame of the bed and cross-legged. It isn’t exactly the immoral scene that he had been contriving in his head, and he… he has to admit that he is thrown for a bit.

The students all look at him with various degrees of annoyance, a particular few with something close to fear, but they all eventually return their attention to their coursework, pencils and pens scratching over paper once again when Shinichi fails to throw all of them out with brimstone and hellfire (or so he knows it was said around campus). Kuroba looks away, keying something into the scientific calculator he has in his hand, and hands it off to a freckled boy sitting next to him with a quiet murmur and a tap of his pencil against what looks to be an equation.

Careful not to dislodge the carefully ordered mess of papers and sticky notes around him, Kuroba gets to his feet smoothly, and picks his way out of the group to walk over to where Shinichi was still standing dumbly in the doorway.

“Since you’re here, you might as well join in,” Kuroba says serenely. Shinichi doesn’t think he’s seen him this quiet and at ease before.

“Join in?” Shinichi repeats, his brain scrambling to reassess everything in front of him.

He follows at Kuroba’s gesture, a short tip of the head to the side, and steps aside towards the the kitchen set-up that Kuroba has up against the wall. “We have study sessions nearly daily,” Kuroba explains, grabbing a mug and pouring himself some water. “Are you going to throw them out for the pursuit of knowledge?”

“I… no.” Shinichi turns to study the studying students, brow furrowed in confusion. “Are you telling me you’ve been helping them with their studies for the past two weeks?”

The incredulity must have shown clearly on his face, because Kuroba loses some of his cheer, drinking from his mug and looking away. “I’m almost hurt,” he says, leaning his hip against the counter. “What else could I be doing?”

Terrorising the first years, Shinichi thinks. Traumatising people. Carrying out illegal experiments on the student body. He doesn’t voice any of those thoughts, wary of offending Kuroba and being on the receiving end of something nasty.

“Well, you’re right in being suspicious.” Kuroba says suddenly, when Shinichi has been silent (struggling with something to say and lapsing into a blank silence when there is none) for the past minute. “I _was_ running a bar out of my room, but everyone else came for the studying instead. Is that considered a failure?”

“A _bar_?”

Kuroba raises both hands placatingly as Shinichi rounds on him, more horror than anger. “A _chocolate_ bar, not alcohol, Kudou. Would I feed something that vile to anyone?”

The answer is probably yes, but Kuroba is also smarter than to bring alcohol onto campus in an attempt to stunt everyone else’s brain cells and processing capability.

“From you, I’ve come to expect the unexpected,” Shinichi says instead, and Kuroba grins, clearly proud of himself.

“Well, it’s a study session now. They come to me with questions, I provide the answers and free hot chocolate. No harm done at all.” Kuroba lifts a shoulder in a shrug, expression turning thoughtful. “Not what I have expected, but not bad. I only believe in happy accidents. So what do you say? Want to hang around and help out?”

Shinichi narrows his eyes at the wink Kuroba sends his way.

“I will think about it,” he says finally, and is soundly clapped on the back by his overenthusiastic yearmate.

“Do,” Kuroba says, and that is how Shinichi finds himself fixing Kuroba’s cranky, ancient printer with the promise of hot chocolate as payment.

(He doesn’t even like hot chocolate.)

The amount of mugs that Kuroba apparently owns is baffling. Even more baffling is where Kuroba is keeping them, because it seems as though he is pulling them out of thin air whenever a new student joins their little study group. He’s tried peeking into the shelves and cupboards to no avail, and gives up after a while.

Surprise barely begins to cover what he is feeling. Kuroba hasn’t pulled a single trick in the week he’s been working with them, and has been nothing but warm and supportive towards the students who seek him out for help. It is difficult to reconcile the Kuroba in this room with the same Kuroba in their lecture halls, who would not stop fidgeting or pulling tricks when the professors are still lecturing, putting the barest effort into his studies and turning in his work at the last possible minute. While his attitude towards class was sloppy, his work has been more than exemplary, though it did not stop the professors from chewing his ear off about ‘personal responsibility’ and ‘taking charge of his own future before he ruins it’. Watching Kuroba patiently explain a tricky problem to a tearful student after carefully talking them out of an impending panic attack had been particularly eye-opening, and, okay, he had considered Kuroba as vaguely attractive before, but now…

Don’t be shallow, Kudou Shinichi, he thinks, firmly knocking the thought out of his head with a firm shake of his head. Or you’ll end up like Sonoko, and you don’t want that _._

Perhaps because Kuroba is a strange person to begin with, there have been some strange requests for his assistance other than help on academic problems. Take Tuesday for example - there had been a crying kid at Kuroba’s door with what appears to be a bag full of failed brownies. The story was apparently a failed batch of brownies that he’d been trying to make for his girlfriend on campus, and Kuroba had let him in, examined the recipe that the boy was using, and sent him off with new pointers, a new recipe, and a mug of his chocolate. Though, if anyone bothered to ask Shinichi, what the girlfriend had really needed was probably not the brownies and a photo of Kuroba instead, from the way the boy had discreetly snapped a photo of him when Kuroba’s attention was elsewhere. No one bothered, so he keeps the thought to himself, and returns to whapping some sense into Kuroba’s printer again.

He doesn’t advertise his involvement with the study group, only occupying an unobtrusive corner in the room and carrying out his RA duties from there. The students had been understandably nervous in the beginning, but their need to excel at their upcoming exams dissuades them from commenting, and now no one bats an eye when he walks in with a spanner or the like from fixing someone’s sink. Kuroba is always there to greet him with the stupid shark mug that he’s been assigned as his own personal mug, forcing whatever new kind of sweet concoction he’s made onto him the moment he comes through the door.

Don’t get him started on the fire hazard that Kuroba is creating by using a tripod, beaker, and a portable bunsen burner to make hot chocolate with. As far as Shinichi is concerned, that little corner table that Kuroba is working out of technically doesn’t exist. He sits with his back to it, putting his money into the ‘out of sight, out of mind’ mentality. He brings his own classwork with him as well, working on it silently when no one is trying to ask him anything (they seldom do, unless Kuroba points them his way, at which point they shyly obey)

(There is also the question of cross-contamination, but playful doesn’t equate to carelessness in Kuroba’s case, and Shinichi knows better than to ask, and only sips at his drink carefully.)

“Why is this green?”

“It’s lemongrass-lavender white hot chocolate,” Kuroba peers into his mug. It looks a dirty green, although it is only a light, pastel green in Kuroba’s own plain white mug. Likely due to the colour of the one that he is holding, Shinichi thinks. It doesn’t look very appetizing. “Won’t you give it a try?”

Pouting is unappealing on someone your age, is what Shinichi wants to say, but instead, he takes a sip of the strange concoction under Kuroba’s eager gaze, burning his tongue on the hot liquid.

 **"** It’s good,” he says lamely, and is rewarded with the sight of Kuroba splitting into a happy, sincere grin and his heart trying for double time, because it hasn’t yet gotten the message that Shinichi refuses to behave like a besotted fool.

“It is, isn’t it? Lavender’s relaxing, and what with the stress everyone is under, I thought it would be a good addition to what is simply sugar.”

Shinichi clutches the mug closer to himself, taking occasional sips out of it and nodding as Kuroba tries to explain his latest drink, hands gesticulating wildly. He doesn’t stop, not until a student taps him on the shoulder for help. At least all that energy that he has is going somewhere conducive, he thinks, taking another sip out of his mug without tasting it. Kuroba has yet to offer an explanation on why he feels that it has to be green, he’s noticed.

He doesn’t have the heart to tell Kuroba that he really doesn’t like anything sweet, and resigns himself to something even worse than candy crush hell.

Hattori breaks the news to Kuroba on a Saturday (unintentionally).

“Kudou, you told me you didn’t drink sweet beverages! What is this?!”

He can hardly blame Hattori’s reaction after his friend had stolen a sip from his mug. Hattori, good friend that he is, had been concerned about his being cooped up in the dorm for the last week, and had been wondering if he had worked himself to death yet (over schoolwork and cases, because everyone knows that he is a workaholic of a kind). He had come over, found Shinichi’s room empty, and had knocked on Kuroba’s door, and then had been very curious about the whole mugs and chocolate thing.

Kuroba’s never had a handle on how much sugar was appropriate to put in food and drinks, and he wasn’t going to start now. Very aware of how Hattori had broken the concentration that everyone had in the room, Shinichi grabs a hold of his arm and drags him out.

“I think I need a dentist,” Hattori says, holding a hand to his jaw. “That was _terrible_.”

“Don’t say that.” Shinichi glances at the closed door, then steps further away from the room. “It’s… it’s just a little sweet.”

“If that is what you call liquefied sugar, yeah.” Hattori gives the mug a dubious look, and hands it back to him. “How have you not died from drinking this yet?”

He had been taking little sips out of it throughout the course of the day, but he thinks Hattori will only laugh, so he sets the mug down on the low tea table in the middle of the common area of the dorm. “Is there something you need me for?”

“What? No. Hakuba had wondered if you needed rescuing, and I was curious. Though,” his friend gives him a considering look. “I didn’t know you’d become friends with Kuroba.”

He had still been complaining about his year mate up until a few weeks ago, but he hadn’t known this side of Kuroba then, when the student had only been nothing but a constant source of headache for him and not this kind, gentle, considerate young man inviting students into his room to figure out a way to survive academic hell without dissolving into a pool of tears.

Hattori, to whom he has been complaining all this time, can only find this baffling, but then Hattori also does not know of this aspect of Kuroba’s personality that Kuroba has successfully hidden up until this point in his final year.

“I suppose I have,” he tells Hattori, who promptly puts a call through to Hakuba to prepare for the impending doomsday.

::

Kuroba is looking at him with something like betrayal the next time they meet, and grabs onto his sleeve before he can make a quick getaway with his case files in hand.

“You’re avoiding me,” he accuses, reaching up to grab a hold of Shinichi’s face so that he couldn’t look away. “What did I do?”

“I’m… really not. I answered the duty phone when you called, didn’t I?” Shinichi tries to pry Kuroba’s hands free to no avail. “Let go of me, Kuroba.”

“Duty is duty, but you’re avoiding me.” Kuroba leans in close, and Shinichi tries to backpedal away. “My printer needs fixing.”

“I’m really not on duty right now,” Shinichi says helplessly, watching indigo eyes narrow in suspicion. “I’m on a case. If this is about the study sessions, there really isn’t any purpose to me attending, unless you like for me to enforce certain rules in session.”

“A case? During the exam periods?” Kuroba looks disbelieving, and Shinichi lets out a long sigh.

“Murderers don’t take holidays,” Shinichi says, and is rescued by Hakuba jogging up to them. “Hello, Hakuba.”

“Kuroba, what are you trying to do to Kudou?”

“What? I’m not doing anything to him!”

Shinichi nearly goes deaf from how high pitched Kuroba’s voice becomes, and Hakuba gives the prankster a scalding look, gaze resting pointedly on Kuroba’s hands, which are still grabbing onto Shinichi’s face. Kuroba lets go immediately, and he’s pouting again, although he thinks that there is genuine hurt beneath the act that he is putting up.

“Did he do anything to you?” Hakuba asks, all concern for Shinichi and none for Kuroba. Behind him, Kuroba pulls a face, and kicks at the ground sullenly, wrapping his hands around his bookbag. For a university student, Kuroba does remind him of an elementary school kid denied of his favourite plaything at times.

“Kuroba’s broken his printer,” Shinichi says by way of supplication. “But I still have to drop by the station.”

“No.” Kuroba sniffed loudly from behind Hakuba. “It’s fixed now. I’m not letting this British snob into my room. In fact, it’s as good as new. Everything’s all good.”

Shinichi lets out a gusty sigh, and steps between the two of them before they could start a fight, the first one they’ve had in months (Shinichi was leading the bet that he’d been having with Hattori on how long their peace would hold for, but no one else needs to know that).

“Look, Hakuba, why don’t you accompany me to the station? I could use some help on this - and Kuroba, I’ll come take a look at your printer when I’m finished, although I might be dropping by rather late. You can bring it to another RA if you need it fixed immediately.” Shinichi glances at Kuroba, and then grabs hold of his wrist. “If you dye his hair, I’m going to confiscate your bunsen burner.”

“His bunsen burner?”

Kuroba reluctantly lets go of his bottle of dye, and sticks his hands back into his pockets. “My printer’s fixed,” he says grouchily, and with a parting glare at Hakuba, slouches off moodily.

They watch him until he’s out of sight, in case he’s simply decided to pull another prank from a distance, then Hakuba turns back to Shinichi, gesturing for them to walk. “I heard from Hattori that he’s trying to hold an unapproved study session from his room.”

“He’s not breaking any rules,” Shinichi says immediately. “And… as unbelievable as it sounds, I do believe that Kuroba makes for an exceptional teacher.”

“...You don’t have a fever, do you?”

Shinichi bats away the concerned hand reaching for his forehead, scowling. “I am of sound mind and body, Hakuba. Stop that.”

“Just making sure,” Hakuba says, and doesn’t stop watching him from out of the corner of his eye when he thinks he isn’t looking.

He really needs better friends. Normal friends, he thinks, a breed of which are harder to come by as another year goes by.

::

The thing about joining in on general group activities is that people may mistake him for being approachable - not that he isn’t, since he is the RA and all, but he does generally like being left alone to his own devices when possible. He’s turned away the notes and the pink envelopes and the perfume scented cards, but there is no way to turn away the little gift wrapped package that is sitting out on the common room table because he doesn’t know who it belongs to - a stupid move if the sender expects for him to simply deduce who it is from without leaving a single clue, but very clever if it turns out to be a poisoning attempt (although that is highly unlikely).

Kaito is still holding on to it, leaning against his door with an unreadable expression on his face.

“Give it here,” Shinichi says, and waves a hand towards the other chair he keeps in his room. “Is there something that you needed?”

“I can’t remember now,” Kuroba says, voice entirely without inflection. He only seems irritated when Shinichi stares at him for a beat too long, glaring at him, and well, no, Shinichi doesn’t want that, so he returns his attention to the gift.

It turns out to be a couple of brownies, and Shinichi passes the lot of them over to Kuroba. “Do you want some?”

“What?” Kuroba takes the bag from him automatically, losing some of the stiff anger that he’s been holding in the terse line of his shoulders. “Why would I want some?”

“Because you ate all of the boy’s failed brownies the other time? And because you haven’t had lunch yet?” Shinichi smiles wearily at him, picking up his pencil. “As you already know, I don’t like sweet things.”

“You should have told me.”

Kuroba sounds serious, in a way he never has before, not even when he’d accidentally set one of the labs on fire and had nearly hurt his partner. Shinichi sets down his pencil again, and clasps his hands before him, staring right at his paper. He doesn’t know why Kuroba’s making such a huge scenario out of something as simple as chocolate, but it’s Kuroba, and he suspects that Kuroba would only go from pissed to thwarted movie-villain if asked. He was dramatic like that.

“I didn’t mind it,” Shinichi says carefully, resting his chin on his hands. “I generally don’t like sweet things, but it is only a matter of my personal preference. It hardly means that I dislike what you’ve made, just because it was sweet. It isn’t anything serious, like a peanut allergy, and I couldn’t say no when you went to all that effort, after all. Helping you experiment had also been fun… Kuroba?”

The student had his face in his hands, elbows resting on his knees, the complete picture of dejection and resignation. He waves a hand when Shinichi makes to get up from his chair, scrubbing a hand at his face and then through his hair, making the dark strands stick up messier than before.

“Kuroba?”

Kuroba shook his head, still looking down at his own shoes. “Can I… borrow some superglue?”

Shinichi lets him have the tube that he keeps in his room, and wonders if Kuroba might be feeling ill from all the late nights he’s been pulling. He does look a little red in the face when he is leaving, and Shinichi idly wonders if it should be a cause for concern. He settles for leaving a bubble pack of pills and a paper cup of water on Kuroba’s desk at 7, and considers his duty done.

::

“There’s no study session today,” Kuroba says. “Exams are over.”

“I know,” Shinichi closes the door behind him, gaze going over Kuroba’s room as per his usual practice. The magician immediately moves in front of his closet protectively, but Shinichi is more interested in the mug he has on his desk. “What’s this?”

“Orange hot chocolate,” Kuroba says defensively. “Or it’s supposed to be orange hot chocolate, but I failed. Now it’s just sugar hell.”

Shinichi peers at the thick, foaming concoction, and before Kuroba can stop him, takes a sip from it.

It is absolutely _disgusting_.

“The crunchy bits are interesting,” Shinichi says when he is able to speak again.

“...I’ll make you some coffee,” Kuroba says instead.

It feels strange to be sitting in Kuroba’s room sipping coffee when there is only the two of them. Shinichi is used to the press of students and the quiet shuffling of papers around him when he is in the room, and having that absent is more than a little strange. Kuroba wraps his hands around his mug, and doesn’t take his eyes off of Shinichi.

“What are you doing here?” Kuroba breaks the silence first, actually drinking his horrible failure of an experiment. “Don’t you have people to save, cases to solve - ?”

“I hope not,” Shinichi says sincerely. “We’ve just wrapped up a big one. I’m hoping to put in some sleep before someone else gets the idea to murder someover a petty disagreement.” He grimaces at the thought, and sighs into his coffee. “I really hope that doesn’t happen, but I’m just going to jinx myself.”

“Self-awareness is the first step to improvement,” Kuroba shrugs. “I know someone you can speak to, but you might just come back twice as cursed as ever. It still doesn’t answer my first question.”

The truth is that Shinichi had found it disconcerting that no one has dropped by since the exams had ended, and thus made it a point to visit himself, personally. He doesn’t know how Kuroba feels about being left all alone again, but he had rather thought that he had made the right call when Kuroba had answered the door with a slightly lost expression on his face. He still doesn’t know much about Kuroba, prankster, trouble-maker, third year engineering student who still makes time out of his schedule to help others with their schoolwork and cheers them all up with sugar and moral support, who looks lonely when he’s on his own.

Shinichi rather thinks that he would like to know more.

“I thought you could use the company,” he tells the mug in his hand. “And I also thought that I would rather miss you, Kaito.”

Kuroba splutters, and Shinichi thinks that break is going to get really interesting.

(His mother would be really proud that he’d taken after her, but Kuroba really does _not_ need to know this.)

\--ƒ

 

**Author's Note:**

> There was supposed to be some Harry Potter references worked in but I forgot all about that.
> 
> It was supposed to be light-hearted but then I was in some great emotional turmoil and so it turned a little serious towards the second half bit (๑ᵕ⌓ᵕ̤)
> 
> haha the lowkey jealousy


End file.
